It's hard to believe how much change
I've experienced in my life within just the past three years. You'd think that
just one of the events I encountered
would lead to a lifetime of grief. Maybe it's because I'm good at rolling with
the punches that I look at life in a way that most people do not. Some may call
me apathetic. Others may call me strong. But whatever it is I'm supposed to be feeling in the earthly
sense, it hasn't hit me yet. I guess there just hasn't been enough time to
process it all yet. Although, when it comes to being autistic, that is where I get
into trouble. People on the autism spectrum do not always show grief in the
socially expected way. Everything is different.
I guess you'd really have to go back to
the summer of 2009, July 7th to be exact. Any sign of saving an already fragile
marriage came to an end when I lost a decent-paying job as a security guard.
Since being socially inappropriate was par for the course, two well-intended comments
I made to two black female employees at the theater where I worked were
mistaken to be personal threats instead. At least that's the reason I was given
for my firing. The one comment was to a young lady who felt she was being
discriminated against because of her race. I reminded her that "black is
beautiful" as a way to make her feel good about herself. The other I told
that she looked "yummy" when she was showing pictures from her
modeling photo shoot. Although neither incident was meant as a threat, I can
now see where they could have been perceived as such.
Three months later, after continuing to
feel upset over the whole thing, I suffered a stroke. I perceived that stroke
to be a wakeup call from the Universe. My mindset needed a drastic change. So
did my life. I went from being almost completely paralyzed on the right side
the morning of October 15 to being back to my old self again within six weeks.
While still reeling from the whole stroke and recovery effort, there was yet another
great sadness that fell upon me and my wife Bianca. One day in November, I was in
my office getting ready to see a patient. Bianca called me out of the blue to
inform me that a close friend of ours' husband just died of a heart attack. One
tragedy followed another, and it upset me to see someone I recently became a
good friend with leave this world. Off the record, though, I do believe it was
the statin drug he had just started taking that killed him. I had been looking
forward to seeing him again during the upcoming holidays. Instead, we were all
attending his funeral just before Thanksgiving.
Just before Christmas, I started a new
job as a security guard. I worked the overnight
shift in a convention center with an adjoining hotel. All seemed to be going
well until one night when a rowdy wedding reception got out of hand, and
property damage resulted. Of course it was all my fault because of the one
aspect of the job I couldn't do: make conversation with potential troublemakers
beforehand. Being a tremendous introvert means that being social with anybody is a challenge. In June of 2010,
that job came to an end too. I haven't worked for anybody else since.
All seemed to be status quo in my
marriage. Although my wife Bianca blamed me so much for how much stress she
felt, she could never pinpoint the exact reason why. Therefore, she had no
viable solutions for how I could make her happy. But good strides were made
when we bought a dog, my number of patients and autism seminars increased, and
I kept active taking care of the yard work and necessary chores. Finally, in
August of 2011, we felt that we reached a period of enough stability where we
wanted to have children of our own. But despite our efforts, nothing ever worked.
Now it was October 2011. The downhill
slope suddenly became a lot steeper. Both
Bianca and I decided to visit a fertility specialist. It was then determined
that I was the infertile one. It was discovered that I had been born without a
vas deferens on the left side. The right one had been surgically removed at the
age of nine. The only way we could determine if I had any of the necessary progenitors
in me was to do a biopsy. But that was something that was going to have to
wait. Our best friend, Todd, who was my age, was dying of cancer, and we were
his support group. Despite what we did for him, and despite taking him to his
necessary doctor appointments, he eventually made his exit on December 27th.
After Todd left the world, Bianca's
state of mind was never the same. Todd was her coworker, confidant, and
encourager. Todd was our best man at the vow renewal ceremony Bianca and I had
to celebrate our 5th anniversary. He and his partner Joel were our double-dates
for special occasions, and they were our best friends. I was especially sad
because he and I were only thirteen days apart in age. I figured it could have
been me. Yes, both Bianca and I were quite sad. But this brought up other
stressors that had plagued Bianca's mind over the past nine years that we were
married, mostly the fact that I still struggled professionally and socially.
Because of my autistic tendencies, she often refused invites to social
gatherings because she didn't want to have to take me along with her. I
embarrassed her too much.
Then came the Sunday before Valentine's
Day 2012. While making our dinner plans, Bianca said, "Are you going to
tend to my needs this time?" As every other time, she could never pinpoint
what those "needs" were that I seemed to be ignoring. After almost
ten years of hearing the same whine, coupled with the comment a friend of ours
made to me a month earlier when she stated the obvious by saying to me, "Don't
you think Bianca is too controlling?", I finally had enough. Our marriage
was over right then and there. We separated, yet I continued to live in a
separate area of the house until I was in a stable enough position to leave.
All it took was a visit back to Pennsylvania to be with family and friends.
Everything seemed right for my next life journey: to get divorced and move to
Arizona. I felt that Arizona would be where I would finally experience some much-needed appreciation for what I do as a
healer, especially since my astrological chart pinpointed this area of the U.S.
to be where I would experience the greatest amount of professional success.
After spending a week in Pennsylvania, I returned to Minnesota to say my
goodbyes and to file a joint agreement with Bianca to end our marriage.
I wasn't quite sure how to be remorseful
over this situation. I was happy to be leaving a place and a marriage where I
never felt at home, where I never felt welcomed, where I never felt appreciated.
I was leaving it all behind for a better place. It was just before my 50th
birthday, and I didn't want to live in a place or in a position of stuck-ness. I
wanted to be fulfilled, to know I have a place in this world, to see that all
the efforts I made to become a Doctor of Chiropractic had not been in vain. I
was ready to face the rest of my life, knowing that I was bound for a place
where I've never been before and where I knew nobody. I was all set for some
action and adventure.
Two days before I was to leave for
Arizona, my dad called me and asked me to return to Pennsylvania instead of
going right to Arizona. At first I was up in arms because I felt this was a
ploy by certain members of my family who were trying to talk me into coming
back to PA for good. I had no good reason to go back to a place I felt relieved
to be leaving twenty years prior. But my dad said his health was failing, and
he was asking me to come help him. My dad had been in declining health the past
few years, and he had gone drastically downhill just since my visit the month
prior. So I returned to PA to be with him. I spent the next 2-1/2 months living
with my parents while my dad made several trips to the hospital. His main health
problem was myelofibrosis, a pre-leukemic condition. During this time, it was
also discovered that he also had a leaking aortic heart valve. The main reason
for his hospital stays was to eliminate fluid buildup from apparent bouts of
kidney failure. It was quite distressing to see what was once a very active and
strong leader now living in such a state.
During the time I lived in Pennsylvania,
I flew to Arizona to take the exam I needed to take to obtain my license to
practice there. During the two days I spent there, I became excited by the
scenery and the desert air. Now I knew what I was in for once I moved there,
and I loved it. I also reconnected with old friends and relatives I hadn't seen
in years while sending emails out to find new friends in Arizona. Finally, in
early June, my dad seemed to be in his best health in a very long time. He
reached a point of stability where he was more active and didn't need my help as
much. It had been determined that he would need a heart valve replacement, and
that procedure was to take place in September. I started packing for my trip toward
a new life, vowing to return in September for when my dad would need me again. I
finally left for Arizona on June 22. My destination: Yuma, Arizona.
On the same day I left on my
cross-country trek, my dad made yet another trip to the hospital. After talking
to my parents on the phone for quite some time, they gave me their blessings to
continue on with my trip instead of turning back around. We figured this would
be just another stay to eliminate some fluid buildup. But three days after
arriving in Yuma, my dad passed away. The stress of returning for his funeral
was only heightened when I faced those family members who were hellbent on
accusing me of being incredibly selfish for going to Arizona when I did. I had
nothing to say since they had no idea of all the struggles I had been through
in the past several years or of all that I did for my dad during the time I was
there to take care of him. I then went back to Arizona ready to face whatever
life had to throw at me next.
I will not rehash my experiences in
Arizona here. Everything is detailed in my book "The Doctor Is In" in
the chapter "Madman In The Desert." Instead of my time there being
full of adventure and success, it only perpetuated and accented my struggles.
Between living in eight different places and eventually becoming penniless, there
was plenty of difficulty to be endured. Despite having a handful of clientele
and making regular friends, nothing was enough to keep me there. After only ten
months, I turned right back around and headed back to Pennsylvania. I did not
plan to stay in PA, though. I turned to my astrological chart again to see
where my next destination should be. My Reiki Master, Betty, who is also my
astrology adviser, said I should follow my Venus line this time. There is only
one place in the U.S. where my Venus line crosses, and that is the eastern half
of the state of Maine. I wasted no time in preparing to go there.
It was now late April 2013. I knew that
I would not have near enough money to get to Maine since my dad had been my
source of financial support. I figured that if I couldn't find a job in Maine for
which I would move, I would look for work locally and save some money. During
the rest of the spring and entire summer, nothing panned out. Sending out
hundreds of resumes and filling out countless applications online went nowhere.
Also leading nowhere was the constant accusations from my brothers and my mom,
whom I was living with, that I wasn't making enough of an effort and that I just
didn't care enough. I think I had three job interviews in a four month period. It's
hard enough for many people to find work, let alone a person who has an
advanced college degree, autism, and who is a tremendous introvert. I felt
doomed from the start. My life was only a continuation of the usual struggle.
On October 1, I was taking my usual walk
around the complex where my mom lived in Bowmansville. As I walked along the
tree line that separated the complex from a corn field, I looked up to see two
hawks circling above me in a peculiar manner. Because of my spiritual insight
and my strong connection to my own intuition, I knew that a life-changing event
was about to take place. Two hours later, I received an email from the person
who would eventually become my significant other. Becky was just the name of
someone who was looking for a natural healer to work in her wellness center
which was located thirty miles away in Kutztown. It wouldn't be a paid job, but
it would be a place I could call my "office." I met her at her
wellness center the next day, and four days later we went on our first date. It
quickly became a regular thing for me to spend weekends with her, her mom, and
her daughter at the house they had just started renting in Hamburg.
Later that month, I had planned to take Becky
to my mom's house where we would have dinner after spending a weekend together.
But that never happened. While I was with Becky, I received a phone call from a
neighbor saying that my mom was taken to the hospital the previous day. Apparently,
her chronic illness of liver degeneration rendered her unable to function. This
was quite sudden since she had been quite active and able to care for herself
this whole time. Once again, life was dealing me a challenging blow. Becky did
eventually meet my mom on two occasions, but she was in the hospital during
those times. It was quite disheartening to see my mom suddenly deteriorate in
the same mannerism that my dad did. With the exception of a return back home that
lasted only five hours, my mom spent the rest of her days in the hospital. She
passed away peacefully on December 1 while in hospice care.
In all the time since my dad passed away
just 17 months earlier, it was apparent that my mom never was happy. She lost
her interest in going places, and she became weaker in stamina. While in the
hospice, she said she wasn't interested in fighting to be well. She just wanted
to go to the other side to be with dad. I know that she is there now. I was the
last family member to see her alive, just four hours before she left this
world. During the three hours I remained alone with her after the rest of the
family left, she had quite the conversations in her stuporous state with my dad
and others who had left this world. They were making sure certain things were
taken care of before she was able to go with them. She would say to them,
"I already took care of that." At 9:00 PM I said good night to her,
knowing perfectly well that she would not live through the night. At 1:30 in
the morning, my older brother called me to let me know that she passed on.
For the next 2-1/2 months, I continued
to live in the house while my older brother made plans to sell it. Not knowing
when exactly that would be, I now had the burden of finding another place to
live. My cousin in Reading said I could stay at his place. I reluctantly agreed
to this, knowing darn well that neither he nor his sister who he lived with are
psychologically stable. Besides, I would just be cooped up in the basement on a
couch. It would be yet another downhill turn. But that's not what happened.
Surprisingly, I started going uphill for a change.
During the weekends that I would spend
with Becky, it became apparent that Becky's mom was developing a relationship
with an old friend of hers. The plan was that those two would get married and
start living together at his house in August after which I could live with
Becky in Hamburg. It was a relief just knowing that even if I did live with my
cousin that that situation would only be temporary. But there was yet another
twist. I continued to live at my mom's house until March, which is when we
finally cleaned it out and put it up for sale, and Becky's mom and her
boyfriend decided that they would get married in June instead. So, since March,
I have been living in Hamburg with Becky and her nineteen-year-old daughter
Brittany. Becky's mom, Pam, is now happily married and living with her husband,
Ken, just two miles away.
Being with Becky finally brings me a
notion of being at home. I am not only sharing my life with a special woman who
says she loves me (something I rarely ever heard out of the mouth of Bianca),
but I am also in the company of a woman and her amazing daughter who accept me
for who I am, the way I am, despite my struggles, and despite having autism. They
have plenty of challenges of their own to tell about, which makes them all the
more understanding and patient with mine. With them, I feel like I have a
reason to be settled without feeling the need to run off elsewhere to find my
success.
As I said in the closing words of my
book "The Doctor Is In," success shouldn’t be measured by how much
money someone makes but in what they accomplish in life…..I endured a lot, and
I learned a lot. I accomplished a lot, and I helped, and continue to help, a
lot of people along the course of my own journey into Self-discovery. That is
success. With that in mind, I am one of the most successful people I know. And
I look forward to whatever situations, good or bad, life presents me with. They
are all my teachers; they are all what my Spiritual strength develops from.
